


Attack on Reiss

by Jyeen



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, It's gonna be pretty gritty, M/M, Nuclear Warfare, Slow Burn, but also eren and mikasa have a healthier sibling relationship, honestly I'm just writing there's no plan help, not sure how we're gonna get there but by golly we're gonna, radiophobia, rated for violence and language so far, so the titans are now represented as a rival nation, some cold war themes except it doesn't stay "cold" very long, there's a decade time jump after chapter one, yes this is ereri
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-16
Updated: 2018-10-17
Packaged: 2019-07-13 01:33:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16007519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jyeen/pseuds/Jyeen
Summary: Eren Jaeger's childhood was pretty normal. That is, it was until Kyojin's bombs started raining down, virtually annihilating his home country of Reiss. Ten years later, Eren's dreams of fighting in the war are overwhelmed by his daily struggle to survive and protect the small band of wounded soldiers from the Recon Corps that took him in all those years ago. Not only that, but he's beginning to discover some strange abilities that appear whenever he's exposed to radiation. Then, after years of searching for other surviving corps members, the group finally encounter the main regiment. While the country has been in shambles, the regiment has continued fighting Kyojin more covertly, and Eren wants nothing more than to join them. What he doesn't expect is to meet a short, hard-to-please captain who will completely change how he sees the war -- and himself.





	1. Terror

**Author's Note:**

> So, I said I’d probably never write fanfiction…  
> *proceeds to yeet first chapter into the void that is the internet and ducks behind a nearby shrub to see if anyone picks it up*

Most 3rd graders, upon being called to the principal’s office, tended to almost cower in the chair in front of Mr. Hannes’ desk, shameful eyes pinned to the floor, often brimming with tears. Some tried to explain themselves, frantically stuttering through a half-thought out excuse. Others silently gripped their knees as they trepidatiously awaited for their parent to arrive.

The young brunet in front of him, however, did none of those things. He returned Mr. Hannes’ stern look with a challenging stare of his own, bright teal eyes gleaming with self-righteous determination. Hannes sighed, dropping his gaze. None of his usual tactics would work with this particular boy. Instead, they sat in silence, waiting.

A few moments later, the door opened, and an exasperated-looking woman quickly stepped in and closed it behind her. “Mr. Hannes,” she greeted tiredly. Her dark brown hair was tied loosely so that is hung against her shoulder, as if she had rushed out of the house without putting too much energy into her appearance.

“Carla.” The principal nodded in greeting. The woman was summoned to the school so frequently for situations like this that at this point, any more words were superfluous.

Carla then fixed the boy sitting in front of her with a glare, the soft brown of her eyes becoming cold and sharp. Despite his rebellious behavior with the principal, the child wasn’t quite able to face this look head on. Instead, he leaned slightly away from the woman, whose mounting anger could be physically felt like a cobra rearing back before a killing strike. Even though he wasn’t the object of Carla’s fury, Hannes felt the hairs on the back of his next stand up in an almost sympathetic apprehension.

“What was it this time, Eren?” she demanded of the boy, folding her arms. “Your teacher send you here for being disruptive? Or did you get into another fight?”

Instead of answering, the boy’s hands curled into fists in his lap. Hannes could see the telltale flush of pink on the tips of his ears.

Hannes cleared his throat. “According to the playground monitor, Eren and a few other boys began arguing loudly after lunch. Your son decided to make the argument physical and managed to get a few hits in before your daughter stopped him. Fortunately, the students he attacked weren’t badly hurt. A few scrapes and bruises. However,” Mr. Hannes moved from his position against the far wall of the office and sat heavily in his padded desk chair. “I’m sure you don’t need reminding, Mrs. Jaeger, but this is far from the first incident we’ve had with Eren’s behavior. His teacher has recommended that we evaluate him to try and devise some sort of plan for his continued education at our school.”

Some of the anger had drained out of Carla’s features, replaced by a somber resignation. “You want to put him in the special education program.”

“That might be a possibility. Our counselors have worked with children with behavioral issues before. However, that can only be decided after he is evaluated.” Hannes took a deep breath before carefully continuing. “We’ve received some . . . concerns from the other parents. They’re worried about their children’s wellbeing. If Eren can’t learn to control his temper, it will only make things even harder for him in the future.”

“Those morons deserved every bruise I gave them and more,” the young boy finally spoke up, brushing off the look of warning from his mother. His voice was strong, and Hannes could see there wasn’t a single hint of regret in his expression. “They’ve been messing with Armin for weeks, ever since his parents left. They act like he’s a traitor, or a spy for Kyojin. If I hadn’t done something, _they_ would have hurt _him_.”

“I understand that you think you were protecting your friend,” Hannes said gently, “but you were the one that attacked, Eren. You escalated the situation to violence. If you felt that Armin was being mistreated, you could have told an adult. We are here to help, after all.”

Eren frowned, dark eyebrows lowering angrily. “If adults really cared, they would have done something about it sooner. You just tolerate us so you can get enough money to spend it at the liquor store on the weekends.”

“Eren Jaeger!” his mother scolded loudly, deftly grabbing his ear. The boy winced as she gave it a yank. “You will not say things like that to your principal! Apologize!”

Hannes realized that his breath had caught in his throat. How did the boy know about that? He would have to be much more careful in the future. Being outed as a chronic alcoholic was a surefire way to lose both his reputation _and_ his job.

“My point is, Mrs. Jaeger,” Hannes interrupted, trying not to act as if Eren’s accusation had affected him, “that we think Eren might benefit from a specialized education, to whatever extent is deemed appropriate. Do I have your permission to proceed with his evaluation?”

Carla released Eren’s ear, which he immediately covered with his hand, pouting as he rubbed the tender spot. “You have my permission,” Carla sighed, watching her son with a helpless look on her face. “If you think this will help him stay out of trouble, then I’ll let you do whatever you think is right.”

“You have my thanks, Carla.” Hannes exhaled, leaning back into his chair. “That’s all I wanted to discuss with you today. School should be ending in a minute or two, so you should be able to take your daughter with you as well.”

“We appreciate your patience, Mr. Hannes,” Carla replied as she pulled a disgruntled Eren out of his seat. “Enjoy your weekend.”

As soon as the office door closed behind them, Carla began practically dragging Eren down the empty hall, speaking with a clipped tone. “How could you, Eren? We’ve talked and _talked_ about this. You can’t solve your problems with a punch.”

“You seem to solve yours just fine with an ear yank,” the messy-haired boy grumbled.

“What was that?”

“…Nothing, Mom.”

The bell rang, and students began to filter into the hallway, watching curiously as Carla continued to haul Eren by his arm. She looked down to meet her son’s eyes and her sharp expression softened, if only a little. “Mikasa shouldn’t have to worry about you like she does. She’s always doing everything she can to keep you from getting into trouble. Why can’t you think of her, for once?”

Finally, a twinge of guilt flickered in Eren’s chest. Mikasa was a model student. She aced all her tests with no apparent effort, volunteered to help teachers with various tasks, was taller and stronger than any of the boys in their class, and somehow, though she wasn’t very talkative, everyone wanted to be friends with her. It should be so easy to hate Mikasa, the perfect child, the teacher’s pet. But while her success often frustrated him, Eren could never bring himself to hate her. Sure, next to her, he was the epitome of disappointment: his grades were passing, but barely, he had a knack for getting people to dislike him after only a few words, and despite his natural tendency towards pugnaciousness, he never really ever came out on top in a fight (the ones Mikasa didn’t immediately put a stop to, anyway). Nevertheless, he could never forget how Mikasa had looked on the first day he met her, like broken glass that would fall apart with the tiniest breeze. Everything she’d had had been snatched away from her in a second, and while her empty expression might not have shown it, Eren could see it in her eyes: she was terrified. Terrified that if her whole world could be taken from her just like that, then nothing was worth holding on to. Nothing to anchor her to reality when she was floating from one person’s custody to another, new faces, new cities, new beds to sleep in, new places that she was supposed to call home. _What’s the point of holding on to any of it?_ her eyes had said.

“Mikasa!” Carla called, making her way through the hallway that was now swimming with small bodies. One of these bodies, a thin girl with black hair and a red scarf, looked up at the call.

“Hi, Mom,” she said, moving closer, then locking her eyes on Eren. “Did you get detention?”

“No,” Eren responded bluntly, not elaborating.

“We’ll talk about it at home,” Carla said, guiding the two children toward the parking lot and away from the noise of the busy hallway. “I’ll need to discuss it with your father as well.”

Eren groaned. “Can we still go to Armin’s later?”

“That depends,” Carla snapped. “This is a very serious matter, young man. Your father and I are concerned about your future if you keep disrespecting adults and picking fights. We just want to do what’s best for you, so you can be successful when you’re older.”

Eren snorted. “As if Dad gives a crap about my _future_.”

“Your father cares very much about your future.’

Eren’s face twisted skeptically. Despite his mother’s assurances, Eren was sure his father would leave all the decisions on this particular matter to her. He wasn’t exactly distant, per se, but when it came to his children, Grisha Jaeger was usually content to let them do as they wished. “Whatever. He’s probably still at the lab anyway. He hasn’t come home before bedtime for weeks.”

“He’s been very busy lately,” Mikasa commented quietly as they climbed into the minivan.

“Yes, well.” Carla seemed to deflate slightly at the reminder, but straightened only a moment later with a proud smile gracing her features. “Your father’s work is very important for our country. He’s busy because the government needs his knowledge to win the war. It’s _because_ he cares about us so much that he’s so busy. He wants to keep us safe.”

Eren couldn’t think of any way to argue, so he kept his mouth shut, staring out the window as they drove home. He understood that there were things about his job that his father couldn’t tell him. All he knew was that his father was essential to the war effort against Kyojin, and that was all he needed to know. However, he couldn’t seem to get rid of the burning curiosity in the pit of his stomach, especially when he recalled how strangely his father had acted when he’d tried to venture into an old and disused part of the house only a few days ago.

_What the hell is he hiding in the basement?_

 

* * *

 

 

 

Surprisingly, Grisha was home when they arrived. Their surprise melted, however, when they learned he was only there to grab a few extra pairs of clothes, since he’d be so busy for the next few days that he might have to sleep at the lab. As Eren had predicted, his father didn’t have much to say on the matter of his latest trip to the principal’s office. He simply stated that he would support whatever decision she made, then quickly left the house with his stuffed duffel bag. Carla was slightly miffed, though she did her best to hide it. Thankfully, though, her distractedness made it easy for Eren to convince her to let him go over to Armin’s house for a few hours.

Eren dashed around to the back of the house to grab his bike, only to freeze when he caught sight of his father’s figure emerging from the cellar doors before turning to lock it. The resounding _click_ carried all the way across the yard. Grisha turned to leave, only to pause as he noticed Eren holding his bike, unusually still.

“Going to Armin’s?” he asked cautiously, eyeing the boy.

Eren swallowed, trying to find the right words. He had never been especially eloquent, though, and his curiosity got the better of him. “What were you doing in the basement?”

Grisha hesitated for a moment, gazing at his son with a calculating expression. Then he smiled a bit, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Tell you what, son. When I get back home in a few days, I’ll show it to you myself. In exchange, I expect you to behave for your mother. Sound fair?”

Eren blinked. His father seemed to protective of whatever was down there. Why promise to show him now? There was something a bit off, too, about his voice, or his body language, or . . . something. Eren couldn’t quite pin it down, but he felt a shiver of apprehension tickle his spine.

Still . . .

“Okay,” Eren agreed, shoving his inexplicable anxiety away. Soon, he would be getting his answers.

“Eren!” Mikasa came running into the backyard, her red scarf flying behind her like a ribbon. “I’m coming with you to Armin’s.”

Though it hadn’t been planned, Eren didn’t have a problem with his adoptive sister tagging along (she tended to stick pretty close to him, even though Eren knew the other students in their class wondered why, since she could clearly do better than her delinquent brother for a friend). Armin and Mikasa were the only companions he had ever cared to have, and while they were certainly an unusual group, the trio was rarely apart, both in and out of school.

Armin and his grandfather lived on the other side of town, but since Shiganshina wasn’t very big to begin with, the ride was easy and familiar for the two elementary schoolers. Their tires kicked up dust from the dilapidated roads and the September sun was so forcefully warm that Eren could almost feel its rays pressing against his back as he pedaled. By the time they finally swung off their bikes and leaned them against the side the small house with peeling white paint, Armin was already bounding out to meet them, vibrant blues eyes dancing with excitement.

“You won’t believe what I just found out!” he exclaimed, practically shaking with energy. He didn’t even give them a chance to ask before blurting, “There’s a military convoy that will be passing by us soon on the highway. If we ride there now, we can see!”

Eren’s eyes lit up, but then he cocked his head in confusion. “I thought you didn’t like the war, Armin.”

“Of course I don’t!” Armin cried, waving his hands dismissively. “I hate it, but I don’t blame the soldiers for what they have to do. They’re under orders to fight. It’s the guys at the top who order everyone around that I hate. What _I’m_ interested in are the drones they’ll have with them.”

Eren laughed. “You’re such a nerd.”

Armin rolled his eyes. “You can’t tell me you don’t want to go. I know how much you like to watch the soldiers.”

Mikasa’s signature neutral expression sharpened for a moment as she shot Armin an uneasy look. Backpedaling again, Armin stumbled over his words. “I-I mean, I still don’t think you should join them, when you grow up. Obviously. It’s just . . . I know you don’t care about the drones, but I don’t want to go by myself.” Even though there was no one else near, Armin dropped his voice. “You haven’t told your parents about the whole ‘joining the army’ thing, right?”

“Eren is _not_ joining the army,” Mikasa said sternly.

Eren shot her a glare, which she was immune to, and then sighed. “No, I haven’t told them. They’ve about had it up to here with me as it is.” The trio was quiet for a moment. Then, with some effort, Eren forced his mouth into a smile and grabbed his bike. “Are we going to see the convoy or not?”

After Armin had retrieved his own bike, it only took a few more minutes of riding through backyards and across a field of stiff, sun-scorched grass before the highway was in view. Already Eren could spot a dust cloud approaching from down the road, growing larger, nearer, with each second. A handful of Shiganshina citizens were already standing near the pavement. Many held some form of the Reissian flag, ready to cheer on the soldiers. Eren, Armin and Mikasa took their places beside them, the two boys staring at the dust cloud in excitement as the black-haired girl simply gazed around her, emotionless.

The first vehicles from the Recon Corps convoy to arrive were trucks with huge trailers, upon each of which sat a sleek military drone. Armin practically squealed at getting to see them up close, chattering to an apathetic Eren about the craft’s design and capabilities. The drones were followed with a few other trucks that probably carried supplies of some sort. After those, however, were trucks full of people. Eren felt his pulse quicken and couldn’t help but grin. He leaned forward, peering into the back of one of the trucks while the other bystanders started to shout and wave their flags.

His eyes widened at the sight that met him. Propped up against another soldier was a man with bandages wrapped around his head and shoulder. There was no blood, no missing limbs. What was startling about the man was that even with the bandages, you could clearly tell what part of his head had been crushed.

Armin reeled back at the sight with a gasp. Eren, on the other hand, was transfixed. How could that man still be alive? His head was literally bashed in, like if a baseball player had thrown a fastball into a mass of putty. Wouldn’t that have squished his brain? Did it hurt? _How was this man alive?_

A grown-up who Eren didn’t know _tsk_ ed next to him. “Probably an IED. What a shame. I wonder if he ever even saw the enemy.”

Armin made a small, distressed sound next to him, and Mikasa decided to take control of the situation, dragging them both back to where they’d dumped their bikes. “Let’s go back to Armin’s house and play a game,” she ordered rather than suggested.

Eren tried to jerk out of her hold, but with no success. “Mikasa!”

“Armin’s not feeling well,” she pointed out in her usual monotone. Eren finally looked at his best friend and realized that the small blond boy was white as a sheet. “We’re going back to the house.”

Eren cast a long glance back at the caravan, which was almost completely past them now. Mikasa took a step closer to him. “Is that what you really want, Eren? To end up like them?”

Eren blinked. “Huh?”

“That man we saw,” she said darkly. “They said he probably never even got to fight. Do you really want to throw your life away like that?”

Eren looked away from her. “Fine. Let’s go back to the house.”

He made to mount his bike, but Mikasa grabbed him arm, essentially locking him in place, much to his annoyance. “You’re avoiding my question. Would you really be content with dying for nothing?”

“It’s not like I’ve got much of a future anyway, according to everyone!” Eren shouted, his patience shattering. “What else would you want me to do, Mikasa? I’m not strong, or smart, or popular like you. Even Armin can do stuff with his nerd powers. What do I have to offer, huh? If I did throw my life away, at least I would be content to know I tried to make a difference and protect everyone!”

Mikasa was silent. Armin’s eyes were wide as saucers as he glanced back and forth between the two siblings. Eren had never seen Mikasa at a loss for words, as rarely as she spoke them, but right now, that appeared to be exactly what had happened. Slowly, as if she wasn’t even aware of it, her hands came up to clench in the red scarf around her neck. By now the convoy had long passed them by, and the dust from the road was beginning to settle. Gathering her thoughts at last, Mikasa opened her mouth. “Eren—”

It all happened in an instant. A flash of light like a hundred lightning bolts suddenly tore across the sky, followed by thunder so loud that all three children clapped their hands over their ears, squirming with pain. A muffled ringing filled Eren’s head, but after several seconds, he was able to look around for the source of the unnatural sound. When he finally spotted it, his blood turned to ice.

A huge black cloud had appeared over southern Shiganshina, but it wasn’t a sudden late-summer storm. He recognized it from the videos they’d watched in class, and from the countless drills he’d participated in for as long as he could remember. Even now, he could almost feel the hard floor pressing into his knees as he crouched under his desk, his classmates trying to contain their giggles because even though it was supposed to be very serious, they’d never thought a small town in the middle of nowhere like Shiganshina would ever be the target of an—

“Air strike,” Armin breathed, unbelieving.

Only then did Eren register that his hearing had returned. Once he’d realized what that cloud meant, all sound had seemed to shut off. Now, though, he could hear a distant rumbling, as well as the much closer sound of terrified exclamations coming from the people around them. He looked back at Mikasa and flinched. She appeared just as she had on the day they met – a blank slate on the outside, but terrified within. Terrified of losing everything.

“Our house,” she choked out.

Eren couldn’t think, but since he didn’t usually do too much of that anyway, his body moved on its own, clambering onto his bike and pedaling furiously toward the direction of their home. “Eren, wait!” Armin shouted in panic, trying to keep up with him. “It’s not safe! You can’t go over there!”

Eren didn’t respond. He could feel something cold and unfamiliar taking hold of his body, wiping out all rational thought. It wasn’t until Armin realized his friend couldn’t be stopped so easily and called out, “My grandpa’s car will be faster!” that he slammed on the breaks, turning to follow Armin and Mikasa back to the little white house.

“There’s only—” Armin panted as they tore down the road, “one reason I can think of – why they would attack Shiganshina.”

“What is it?” Eren rasped. His voice felt too tight, like someone was suffocating him.

“The lab where your dad works,” Armin said. “He’s a nuclear physicist, right? He’s probably trying to design – new weapons for use to use in the war. You mentioned a couple days ago that he was really busy. Maybe he was about to – have a breakthrough, and Kyojin wanted to stop him before he developed something that – would put them at a disadvantage.”

It made sense, which only made Eren’s heart sink more.

They arrived at Armin’s house and sprinted inside the cramped interior to find the elderly Mr. Arlert messing with the TV. Dusty books, newspapers, and magazines were scattered in piles and heaps around the living room, and, Eren knew, the rest of the house too. “Damn thing cut right off,” the gray-bearded man grumbled to himself before sensing the mood of the three children. “Armin, what happened?”

Eren shifted anxiously and Mikasa stood unnervingly still while Armin quickly explained what they’d seen. Mr. Arlert’s eyes bulged in a way not so different from his grandson’s. “We need to you drive us to Eren and Mikasa’s house,” Armin finished, but Mr. Arlert was already shaking his head.

“If they really did blow up the lab, then there’ll be radioactive poison in the air. What we need to do is get on the highway and head to Trost, before the wind blows any of it this way.” Eren and Mikasa immediately began to protest, but Mr. Arlert was firm. “Your parents wouldn’t want you two in harm’s way for something silly like that. They’re adults, they can take care of themselves. You’re the ones who need looking after.”

Eren felt it. The pounding in his ears, the surge of energy that flashed through his body. He knew he was about to explode in the way that always got him sent to the principal’s office or grounded for weeks. But right now, he couldn’t care less. “If you won’t drive us, we’ll drive ourselves!” he yelled, face set with determination. “C’mon Mikasa. We don’t have time for this.”

He was just about to yank open the door when his phone rang in his pocket, making him jump. The only people who had his number were his family and the Arlerts. So that could only mean . . .

Eren fumbled to extract the phone from his pocket, and his heart leapt into his throat when the screen told him it was from his mother. “Mom?” he answered shakily. “Are you okay?”

“Eren! Thank god!” Carla Jaeger practically sobbed with relief. “Please tell me you and Mikasa are safe.”

“We’re at Armin’s. We’re fine.” The tightness had returned to his throat with a vengeance. “What about you and Dad?”

Carla hesitated. “I already tried calling your father. He didn’t answer his phone. He . . . he should have been at the lab when it h-happened.”

Though this was exactly what he should have expected to hear, Eren couldn’t help but feel the physical pain that struck him deep in his chest, as if he’d been stabbed. “Mom . . .”

“Listen to me, Eren,” Carla said, her voice wavering even as she tried to sound commanding. “I’m going to start driving north to Trost. I want you to meet me there. Hand the phone to Mr. Arlert, I’ll tell him where to go.”

Eren passed over the phone, almost dropping it with shaking hands. Mikasa stared at him with questioning eyes. “Mom’s okay,” he got out, but the rest got stuck in his throat.

After a short conversation with Mrs. Jaeger, Mr. Arlert handed the phone back to Eren. “Are you there, baby?”

“Yes,” Eren whispered.

“Get in the car, now. And stay on the phone with me.”

Without stopping to grab anything from the house except Mr. Arlert’s signature hat, Eren, Mikasa, and the Arlerts climbed into the rickety old truck that was more rust than not and started down the road. For an older man, Mr. Arlert sure didn’t drive like one. The whole time, Eren listened to his mother’s voice on the other end of the phone, hoping it was just his imagination that the electronic sound was becoming more and more distorted.

“Shit.”

If they hadn’t been in the situation they were in, Eren would have been shocked to hear his mother swear. “What?”

“The lab . . . it’s completely . . .”

“You’re at the lab?” Eren gasped, causing Mikasa to press her ear up against the phone next to him. “I thought you were driving to Trost!”

“I will!” she insisted. The signal started breaking up, making her harder to understand. “But I can’t ju . . . ve your father behind.”

“Mom!”

“—re breaking up, baby,” came the garbled reply, as well as some loud sounds that could have been shifting metal. “The radiation . . . with our signal. Just stay – GRISHA!”

For a moment, the signal became completely undiscernible. Eren and Mikasa hardly dared to breathe. Then there was a great crashing sound, like something heavy falling.

“Eren, Mikasa,” Carla said into the phone, trying to catch her breath. Her voice sounded strained. “Whatever you do you . . . to safety. Do you understand?”

“Mom, what’s happening?” Eren demanded, but he couldn’t keep his voice from breaking.

“—love you both so—”

And just like that, everything stopped at once.

The phone in Eren’s hand went dead, and the truck’s engine was suddenly silent. They slowly rolled to a stop right in front of the highway, almost exactly where the three children had stood only minutes ago as they watched the convoy, though to Eren, it could have been a memory from another lifetime.

No one moved or spoke. It was an hour drive to Trost, but without a car, the journey could take days. They had no food or supplies. Not that it mattered. In fact, none of this even occurred to Eren. The only thought running through his mind was one of understanding.

This is how Mikasa had felt all those months ago.

For the first time ever, Eren was terrified.

Finally, Armin broke the silence. “EMP.” The letters came out barely louder than a whisper. “In class, they said an EMP would likely be used in a . . . large-scale attack.”

Mr. Arlert seemed to understand what Armin was trying to say. “Trost won’t be safe. It’s so densely populated, it’s bound to be a target.”

“ . . . Grandpa, what do we do now?”

“Well, we can’t stay here.” Mr. Arlert opened his door and stepped out onto the hot asphalt. “Come on, Eren, Mikasa. We’ll walk along the road for a ways. Maybe if we get far enough away, someone’ll have a working car.”

In the end, Armin was the one to coax the shell-shocked children out of the truck, taking one of their hands in each of his and gently tugging them out of the back seat. They started walking west, toward the sun as it slowly disappeared over the horizon, making the highway appear hazy. Or maybe Eren was the one who was hazy. Even after an hour of walking, he was still too numb to register the pain in his feet.

“What’s that?” Mikasa mumbled, staring at something in the distance.

Eren followed her gaze. There was a small glowing dot, maybe a mile away. And it was quickly getting closer.

“A car!” Armin shouted, grinning and waving his arms. “Hey! Over here!”

As the car approached, it suddenly dawned on Eren that he’s seen this kind of car before, only earlier that day. It was one of the Recon Corps vehicles for transporting personnel.

The dark green vehicle slowed as it approached, and then its thick tires rolled to a halt next to them. A young woman with flaming red hair in an army cut leaned out the window, taking in the four strangers. “You folks from Shiganshina?”

“That’s right,” Mr. Arlert told her. “We were on our way to Trost when our truck died all of a sudden.”

“EMP,” she nodded. “From what we can tell, it’s happening all over the country. Trost hasn’t been bombed yet, but people are flooding out of it like rats out of a sinking ship.”

The driver of the vehicle craned his neck to look down at the smaller Shiganshinans. “These yours, sir?”

“This one’s my grandson, Armin,” Mr. Arlert said, placing a hand on Armin’s shoulders. “These other two are Eren and Mikasa. I guess they’re mine for now. We lost contact with their parents.”

The redhead looked sympathetic, but not surprised. “My name’s Isabel, and this here is Farlan. We’re part of the Recon Corps convoy that was passing by here earlier today. The rest of our unit set up camp a few miles from here. We originally planned on spending the night in Trost, but . . .”

“We were actually hoping we could find someone out here,” the light-haired man, Farlan, said. “We don’t have much to go around at the camp right now, but it’s safer than any of the cities. We can help get you somewhere out in the country.”

“That’s very kind of you,” Mr. Arlert smiled. “Armin, help me get Eren and Mikasa into the truck.”

Isabel slid out of her seat and into the back of the vehicle, helping each of the children climb up the huge tires and into the truck bed. Up close, Eren noticed that Isabel wasn’t very old at all. Maybe high school age. She must have enlisted as soon as she turned fifteen, the youngest age they allowed into the army. After helping Mr. Arlert up, Isabel checked to make sure they were all sitting securely, then shouted for Farlan to take them back to the camp.

Isabel tried to ease the weary silence by striking up a conversation with Armin, who was still curious about the drones. Eren and Mikasa sat close together, but with some distance from everybody else. It took a minute for Eren to realize that Mikasa was trembling. For the first time in hours, Eren felt something stir under the shock that seemed to be encasing him. Slowly he shifted, taking the end of Mikasa’s scarf, which had fallen off her shoulder during their walk, and wrapping it so that it covered her nose and mouth, slightly draping over her head as well. Mikasa’s tremors lessened, and she leaned against Eren’s shoulder.

“Everything’s gone,” she muttered. “It’s just like last time. Just when I’m starting to think I know what I should do, everything gets ripped away from me. I’m all alone. _Again._ ”

It’s completely the wrong situation to be smiling. Even worse to be making jokes. But for some sick reason, Eren can’t seem to stop himself. “What am I then, chopped liver?”

Mikasa sits up sharply, throwing him a disapproving look. However, after a few seconds, the edges of her mouth lift. Eren feels a giggle begin in his stomach, working its way up to his mouth, and then it’s pouring out of him, and even stranger, Mikasa’s laughing too, and the others are all staring, but Eren can’t seem to stop. He keeps laughing until tears leak from his eyes, and the laughs become sharper, and then they’re sobs that tear at his throat with claws, and the tears burn like acid.

 _“This is for you,” Eren said, awkwardly holding the plain red scarf out to the girl that was sitting on_ her _bed, in_ her _room, in_ his _house. He still wasn’t sure how to react to his sudden new sister, even after a week of showing her around his school and sitting down to breakfast with her in the mornings. Eren wasn’t good at reading people, but even he could tell that the girl wasn’t happy. Not just that; she was broken. And something about that made Eren hurt too._

_The girl stared at the scarf as if she’d never seen one before. With a sigh, Eren stepped forward, wrapping the thing around her neck a few times. It was sloppy, but at least it was warm. Eren stepped back and took in her appearance. The red clashed with the other colors she was wearing. Maybe he should have gotten her a pink one. Girls were supposed to like pink—_

_Suddenly, Mikasa grabbed the scarf in her hands, feeling the fabric between her fingers. Something in her eyes changed then, like she hadn’t quite been really awake before, and was just now returning from a long dream. “It’s perfect,” she said quietly. “Thank you.”_

_Eren hadn’t expected that. “N-No problem,” he said, and shot her a small smile. Mikasa copied the expression. Eren decided that he liked Mikasa much better when she was smiling._

Mikasa and Eren held on to each other as they cried, not caring that the others had fallen silent. Eren couldn’t remember the last time he’d cried. The tears just kept coming until the burning sensation was replaced with a prickling dryness, and his sobs became erratic gasps. Isabel slowly came to sit next to them, tentatively setting a hand against Eren’s back and rubbing small circles. “Shh. You’re alright now. We’ll keep you safe.” She reached over to stroke Mikasa’s glossy black hair, and the girl’s dry sobs quieted.

All of a sudden, Armin jumped to his feel, almost falling over. “What’s that?”

Every head in the truck bed turned to watch as a bright streak appeared in the sky above a distant Trost, followed by another and another. When they fell to earth, bright flashes sparked across the cityscape. The stars along the horizon faded into a haze and disappeared. Then after several long seconds, the roar of explosions, muted by the expanse of the countryside, met their ears.

“There it is,” Isabel said, her tone somber. “If I were you I’d be glad the EMP killed your ride. It might have saved you from something much worse.”

Eren knew the chances of his mother making it to Trost were slim, but that didn’t comfort him. For all he knew, neither of his parents even made it out of the lab alive. He could be an orphan right now and he wouldn’t even know.

Without the numbness of shock, Eren felt his anger return. Kyojin had done this. They had hurt those people in the convoy, they had put his parents’ lives in jeopardy, and now they were laying waste to his country. His hands clenched into fists. “Damn those Kyojin bastards.” The smoke had climbed higher into the sky, while underneath, Trost burned. How many people would die in Trost tonight? How many in Shiganshina? Armin was right. This war was evil. It needed to end. But not by someone signing a paper and forgetting about all the pain and suffering and loss they had caused. Eren wanted vengeance. He wanted Kyojin to experience the pain that he felt, and that Mikasa felt. And until they could repay that pain and free themselves of the burden, Eren would fear nothing.

“I’ll kill them!” he growled, pushing himself to his feel and slamming his hands down on the roof of the cab, making Farlan swear and swerve a little. Eren kept his eyes on the city engulfed in flames and smoke. “I’ll kill them all,” he said, a bit quieter. “Every last one.”

After a moment, Isabel came to stand by his side. “Kid,” she said gripping his shoulder. She wasn’t smiling exactly, but there was a gleam in her eye not unlike his own. “I think you’re gonna fit in with us Recon folks just fine.”


	2. Determination

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's ten years later, and Eren finally gets his first mission with the Recon Corps! I expect it to go off without a hitch! (crosses fingers behind back)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As an insignificant character from a shitty movie once said, "Don't make promises you can't keep" (even though those may or may not be the best kind.)  
> Therefore, I will not be making any sort of promise to update at a regular time. My schedule is too crazy. And as much as I would love to quit my jobs and drop out of school all Jesus-take-the-PRNDL-style, I actually do have goals and aspirations that are just slightly more important to me than writing fanfiction about a show that I don't even like (except for those shirtless Eren episodes we've been getting from season 3, can I hear a HELL YEAH from my Eren fangirls?!?!?!?)  
> ANYWAY!  
> I do have a FEW promises to make that I intend to keep.  
> 1\. I will continue updating this fic as much as I can.  
> 2\. I'll also be starting another ereri fic (it's a songfic where Eren's a classical violinist and Levi's in a band, I'm so fucking excited you guys have no idea) so check that out once it goes up!  
> Thank you so much for those of you who read chapter one! I love feedback more that I love curry (and let me tell you, I could eat that stuff until it killed me), so please feel free to let me know what you think of the story so far (or just say hi!) in the comments!!!  
> ***QUICK RADIOPHOBIA WARNING, IT GETS PRETTY INTENSE IN THIS CHAPTER***  
> Now, without further ado...

_Eren stood back and watched as Mikasa thrashed and screamed, her collection of firewood scattered across the ground. She tried to strike at the man pinning her smaller body against the coarse siding of the cabin, but his reach was longer than hers, and she flailed helplessly. The man turned to his partner, and Eren caught bits and pieces, something about being “young” and a “good price”. Mikasa’s cries were growing weaker._

_Eren couldn’t understand. These were Reissians,_ their _people. Why were they hurting Mikasa? Why were they trying to take her away from him, when all they had left was each other? They had promised that no matter what happened, they would never lose each other, to always fight to hold on to the one person that would keep them from falling apart. These were not men. They were just as bad as the Kyojin. They were monsters._

_And Eren wasn’t afraid of monsters._

_Stepping forward, he knelt down to pick up the handgun that one of the men had cast aside in favor of choking Mikasa with his hands. The weapon was still warm and slick with sweat, but at least the heavy weight was familiar by now. Eren’s hands were steady as he prepared to fire, just as Mike had taught him. Then, without even a moment’s hesitation, he raised the gun to point at the nearest thug, reveling in the kickback as he squeezed the trigger—_

Eren jolted awake in his cot on the ground. His breathing was shallow and fast, as if he’d just completed a marathon in his sleep. The brunet pressed his hands against his face, fighting to ease his gasping breaths before he woke up any of the three figures next to him.

“This shit again,” he mumbled under his breath.

Even though he’d made peace with his first kills a long time ago, this dream would still come back to haunt him from time to time. It was almost as if his subconscious wanted to remind him how close he’d come to losing everything.

Grumbling, Eren shuffled out of bed, picking his way between the maze of jumbled limbs and blankets created by his snoring tentmates as carefully as he could. There was no point trying to sleep now. Once outside, Eren reached above his head, sighing as his joints popped pleasantly and the cool early morning air caressed his face. After a quick glance around at the seven other tents grouped closely together, Eren determined that no one else was up yet. He frowned at his wristwatch and let out a quiet groan. 3:46 AM.

“Can’t sleep?”

Eren turned and grinned at the familiar voice. “Mind a little company, Nanaba?”

The blonde woman smiled fondly and patted the spot next to her on the thick log she was sitting on as she kept watch. “It’s been quiet tonight,” she said as Eren sat down, though there was a nervous tinge to her tone.

Eren’s dark eyebrows knitted together. “Still no sign of Ilse?”

Nanaba shook her head. “Mike’s planning on sending a search party if she doesn’t get back in a few hours. She was only supposed to go a hundred miles, so either her vehicle broke down or . . .”

“Or she ran into trouble,” Eren finished for her.

It was a grim thought, but it wouldn’t be the first time they’d lost a scout. Ten years after the devastating Kyojin attack that plunged the country into chaos, the only survivors were the most dangerous and desperate of Reiss’ population. It was kill or be killed, no matter if you were military or civilian. Without the authority of a legitimate government, soldiers now found themselves being shot at by the very people they had dedicated their lives to protecting.

That was the first lesson Eren learned when he joined the Recon Corps: In this horrible new world they were living in, winning meant surviving. And if you didn’t fight, you couldn’t win. Even if it meant fighting your own, that was the way of things.

“Was is that dream?”

Eren looked up sharply as Nanaba’s gentle voice broke the silence. She was watching him carefully, a small, sad smile pulling at her lips. For a second, he considered denying it, but quickly abandoned the idea with a sigh. After being separated from his parents when he was nine, Nanaba had become the closest thing to a mother-figure in Eren’s life. Of course, she was nothing like his mother, who would shout and tug on his ears when he misbehaved. Nanaba seemed to radiate a sense of calm and security. She wasn’t exactly warm, but you could always rely on her to be there looking out for everyone, even in the early days when she’d barely been a grown woman herself. Now, after practically raising Eren, she could read his moods almost better than Eren could.

“Yes,” he reluctantly admitted. “No matter what I do, it just keeps coming back. I think it’ll always be with me.”

Nanaba nodded, not seeming surprised. “It still makes me feel sick, what you kids had to do, and at such a young age. I signed up for this hell, I was prepared. You were just innocents caught in the crossfire.”

“It’s not like I didn’t want to sign up,” Eren muttered. “If anything, these last ten years have made me even more determined to pay back Kyojin for what they’ve done.”

“That much is obvious,” Nanaba chortled. “I swear, between you and Jean, poor Mike’s gonna be too worn down to keep up with your training.”

Eren scoffed at the mention of his gangly tentmate. “Horseface only does it to compete with me. He doesn’t care about any of that stuff.”

“Well, maybe he’s got the right idea.”

Eren narrowed his eyes at the short-haired woman. “Since when has _Jean_ ever had anything resembling a right idea?”

Nanaba fixed him with a steady look, which shut him up faster than words could. “Not sure if you’ve noticed, Eren, but we’re not much of a fighting force. How would you expect us to take on a superpower like Kyojin? We’re just a bunch of green and wounded ex-soldiers who managed to collect a few lost kids over the years. We’re not the Recon Corps anymore.” Her eyes left his to scan the horizon, only to register no change in their surroundings. “Maybe we should just focus on keeping each other safe.”

The teenager opened his mouth to argue, but quickly closed it as a weight settled in his stomach. There were still no signs of Ilse’s return. They couldn’t afford to camp anywhere too long, so they only had a day or two at best to find her before they moved on, and Ilse could be lost forever, without them ever knowing if she was even alive.

_Just like Mom and Dad._

“Mornin’, Eren, Nanaba,” a lower voice called, accompanied by approaching footsteps.

They both turned to see the leader of their unlikely band step out of his tent, carefully sniffing the morning air. Mike Zacharius was not at all like the mental picture Eren had once had when he imagined a Recon Corps Squad Leader. Mike was . . . odd. He certainly had a fighter’s physique, but he always kept just a tiny sliver of a mustache on his upper lip and a few bristles on his chin, and his hair was long enough to tuck behind his ears. That wasn’t nearly as strange as his behavior, however. When Isabel had first introduced Eren to her superior officer, rather than shaking his hand, the irregularly tall man had bent all the way down and _smelled_ him, as if checking for mold. Eren had made a point to avoid Mike after that, but his apprehension had quickly been overcome by excitement as he watched the Squad Leader sparring with younger recruits. He watched religiously for months before Mike finally waved him over and started teaching him the basics of combat. After that, it became normal for Eren to tag along with the fresh recruits, Ilse, Farlan, and Isabel, whenever they had their training.

“Morning, Mike,” Nanaba called to her superior. “No sign of her yet, I’m afraid.”

“Shit,” the tall man muttered, pushing his long bangs out of his face. “Lynne said she spotted someone in the woods just to the north yesterday, heavily armed. Another group is probably somewhere in the area, and they don’t seem like the type we want to tangle with. But I don’t want to just up and leave Langnar behind.” He joined Nanaba in staring at the horizon, as if willing the familiar dented green truck to appear. “Someone has to go look for her, but I need the squad to stay at camp in case our friends try to attack.”

Nanaba nodded. “I’ll leave as soon as they’re up.”

Mike shook his head. “No, you’ve been keeping watch here for hours. If something did happen to her, you wouldn’t have the strength to defend yourself right now.”

“I can go.”

Both adults turned to look in surprise at Eren, as if they hadn’t even thought of sending him, which Eren wouldn’t have found difficult to believe. Even after all his training, he knew the veteran soldiers still saw him as another homeless, parentless child that needed to be protected. This could finally be his chance to change that perception.

“I can drive, and I can look out for myself,” Eren insisted. “Besides, it seems like everyone else is busy, and until we can find out what happened to Ilse, we’re stuck here.”

Nanaba glanced at Mike. “He makes a good point.”

Mike’s features scrunched together in thought. “We’ve never sent you on a mission like this before.”

“First time for everything,” Eren countered.

After a few more seconds of concentration, the Squad Leader seemed to arrive at a decision. “Alright. Once everyone wakes up, take one of the trucks and drive southeast. And,” he added, interrupting the grin that was spreading over the younger man’s face, “you’re taking two of the other kids with you.”

Eren hesitated. This was his first real assignment. It was almost like finally fulfilling his dream of joining the military. But having two disapproving passengers hadn’t exactly been part of that dream. Of course, he was taking Armin and Mikasa. Even though they had no wish to be involved in any fighting, he trusted them more than anyone else to keep him out of trouble. “Fine,” he agreed.

The morning passed in a blur for Eren after that. When he explained the situation to Mikasa and Armin, he was surprised when they’d instantly agreed to join him on his journey. Perhaps it shouldn’t have come as such a surprise, though. Mikasa refused to let Eren out of her sight whenever danger lurked, and Armin had always been close with Ilse. The black-haired young woman would always take detailed notes whenever she made excursions with the squad, and she would share her adventures with Armin upon her return. The two got along like siblings, not unlike the familiar relationship Eren had with Isabel and Farlan.

A few short hours later, Eren found himself sitting in the passenger seat (of course Mikasa would insist that she be the one to drive) as they sped across flat, dusty fields. The vegetation in this area was tough and twisted, only adding to the harshness of the scene. For the last few months, Eren knew they had been traveling toward the southern part of Reiss, hoping to reach the coast by the height of summer. According to Armin, the weather would be much more temperate by the ocean, and Eren couldn’t wait. Even now in April the heat was oppressive. He could feel rivulets of sweat collecting at the nape of his neck, just below where his shoulder-length hair was pulled into a bun. _Have the southern districts always been so burnt and rough?_ Eren thought to himself as the land flew by. _Or is this the product of Kyojin’s attacks?_

“All this dust can’t be good for the engine,” Armin noted, sounding worried. “I’ll bet Ilse’s truck broke down and she’s been out here in the heat all this time. I hope she brought enough water.”

“I’m sure she did,” Eren assured him, but he couldn’t so easily dismiss his own doubts. All three of them knew that thirst was the very least of Ilse’s possible troubles.

Eren glanced down at his hand, where a device about the size of a cell phone sat dormant. Every Recon Corp truck had a transmitting beacon that allowed it to be located by one of their receivers. Unfortunately, the receiver could only pick up the signal if it was within ten miles, and even then, the monotone beeps couldn’t describe which direction the signal had originated from. Even more unfortunately, Ilse would have had to activate the beacon for there to be a signal at all. Eren clenched the receiver in his hand and prayed that Armin’s optimism wasn’t misplaced.

They continued southeast, as Mike had told them, for an hour. The vegetation thickened, and gradually they found themselves in a forest of sorts, with unwelcoming-looking trees that twisted above their heads and sported dry, sharp needles. Fortunately, however, the trees were far enough apart that Mikasa could continue driving without a dramatic decrease in speed.

“How far are we from camp, Ar?”

Armin’s answer was immediate. “Seventy miles. And we’ve been driving due southeast.”

Mikasa spoke without inflection. “If she stuck to the route then we should—”

Her words were cut of by a single electronic beep. Eren stared down at the receiver in his hand. “Was that—” Armin gasped, pulling himself up to look over Eren’s shoulder just as the device beeped again. “We’ve got a signal!”

Excitement began pulsing through Eren’s veins. “We’re getting close! Mikasa, keep—”

_BEEP!BEEP!BEEP!_

All three teenagers froze as another electronic sound filled the truck, lower in pitch and insistent. They had only heard that sound once before, and they all remembered how the soldiers had reacted.

Mikasa slammed on the breaks, and Eren felt the seatbelt dig painfully into his collarbone. Armin, who was standing, was practically thrown into the front seats, but was too shocked to even cry out. All three of them raised their wrists to eye level, where military-issue watches were fastened at all times, by Mike’s orders.

“Holy fuck,” Eren breathed.

There it was. The digital screen on the watch flashed yellow, displaying the reading from the tiny dosimeter it housed.

“One hundred mSv per hour,” Mikasa read off, then locked eyes with her adopted brother. “We have to turn back. You know Mike told us never to—”

“Ilse’s vehicle is ten miles from here!” Eren objected. “A hundred millisieverts won’t affect us for years, if it does at all. If Ilse’s been exposed to it for _hours—_ ”

“She could be dead for all we know,” Mikasa replied, a slight bite to her voice. “We are not soldiers. We are not driving into a radioactive area to look for someone who might not even be there. You know Mike would never ask that of anyone, and certainly not us.”

“If there’s a chance we can save her, then we have to do it!” Eren shouted, gripping the receiver tighter. “Right, Armin?”

He turned to look at his best friend, but Armin didn’t even seem to be listening. His eyes were fixed on his watch, flashing yellow with the bold numbers. Suddenly Eren recalled what had happened six years ago, the first time they had accidentally wandered into a radioactive area. Armin had been shaking for hours afterward, clasping his dosimeter like it was his only lifeline. Radiophobia, Nanaba had called it.

Even so, Eren’s compassion for his friend was outweighed by his frustration. “You want to save Ilse, don’t you, Armin?”

Armin twitched, meeting Eren’s blazing teal eyes. “Y-yes,” he managed to get out.

Eren turned back to Mikasa. “The longer you keep us stopped here, the longer we’ll be exposed. If you drive fast, we can get her and get out easily in under an hour. So, either you start driving, or get out of that seat so I can.”

It was an empty threat. Even as much as Eren trained with Mike, any time Mikasa showed up for a sparring session, she was always the victor. He was sure she was going easy on him, too, since all her other opponents usually ended up much the worse for wear than he ever did, and he wasn’t prideful enough to think it was because he was more skilled.

Eren knew he couldn’t beat Mikasa in combat, just like Mikasa couldn’t change Eren’s mind once he’d made a decision. The dark-haired girl glanced back at her watch, then at the receiver lazily _beep_ ing in Eren’s hand. Finally she sucked in a long breath through her teeth and turned back to the road. “Ten minutes. Then we’re turning around and driving straight back to camp.”

Mikasa pushed the gas pedal almost to the floor, skillfully weaving around tree roots. In his hands, the rate of the receiver’s beeps slowly increased in frequency.

Eight more minutes of driving due southeast and the receiver was growing more frantic every second. Eren and Armin stuck their heads through the windows, staring around for the familiar dark shape of a Recon Corp vehicle.

**_BEEP!BEEP!BEEP!_ **

Dread filled Eren’s stomach as he lifted his left wrist to read the number. _1,000 mSv/Hr._

_Fuck._

_Fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK—_

“Don’t stop,” Eren called back to Mikasa, forcing the panic out of his voice. “We’re so close, whatever you do, don’t stop!”

Mikasa looked like she was about to kill something with her bare hands (probably the steering wheel, by the whiteness of her knuckles), but kept driving at a breakneck speed. In the back, Armin was shaking violently.

**_BEEP!BEEP!BEEP!_ **

_6,000 mSv/Hr._

The receiver was beating almost as fast as his heart—

**_BEEP!BEEP!BEEP!_ **

_13,000 mSv/Hr._

There were retching sounds coming from the back seat, and Eren looked back just in time to see Armin lose his breakfast.

“Fuck,” Eren gasped. His heart was hammering in his ribs so loudly that we could barely hear himself swearing. “Oh my god, Armin—”

**_BEEP!BEEP!BEEP!_ **

_21,000 mSv/Hr._

The truck jerked to the side as Mikasa lost her grip on the steering wheel. Eren managed to catch it before they plowed into a tree at sixty miles per hour, but it was hard to concentrate on whatever was in front of them when Armin had gone silent in the back seat and Mikasa’s arms felt cold and clammy against his. An emotion he hadn’t felt in ten years began unfurling inside him.

_I did this._

_I made the wrong choice._

_And now we’re all going to die._

All of a sudden, Eren was weightless. One moment he had been stretching across Mikasa, attempting to take control of the truck, then the next, he was flying. Then, just as suddenly, all the weight in the world struck him at once. He could feel bones breaking, limbs twisting, his head being thrown into something hard with an inconceivable force. Everything was pain.

And Eren was terrified.

_No._

_Not again._

_I refuse to die trapped by fear._

_I either die free of it . . ._

_. . . or I keep living._

 

 

Eren’s eyes flew open.

Above him, the branches of a tree swayed gently with the breeze. Farther above, soft clouds scurried across a velvety blue sky. He could even spot bright little periwinkle flowers out of the corner of his eye. Eren felt well rested, as if he’d just woken from a long nap to find the beautiful scene around him. He sighed in contentment, closing his eyes again.

**_BEEP!BEEP!BEEP!_ **

His eyes flew back open and he bolted upright. The sky was pale and cloudless, with only a scorching sun glaring down on him from above. The ground was sharp, dead needles and the flowers were ugly weeds. Yet for some reason, he still felt full of life. _What the hell…?_

Eren checked his watch and could have sworn his heart stopped beating.

_30,000 mSv/Hr._

It took a moment for Eren to get his bearings. He must have been thrown out of the truck somehow. The vehicle was several yards away, and the passenger’s side had struck the tree trunk at such an angle that Eren had, thankfully, not been crushed. Through the broken windshield Eren could see his friends were still in the car, passed out or knocked out, he wasn’t sure. Some of the glass had flown in Mikasa’s face, and a deep cut across her cheek was bleeding down her chin.

Eren moved toward the truck, but something stopped him. A fast, high pitched beeping, coming from nearby—

He turned around to see that the receiver had also been flung from the car. However, his attending instantly shifted when something else, about half a mile away, caught his eye.

Dark green truck.

_Ilse._

He knew they needed to leave immediately. For whatever reason, the radiation seemed to be affecting him less than the others, but it was only a matter of time before he too would surely succumb to the effects, and then they would all definitely die.

_How long has she been here?_

_She could still be alive._

He didn’t have time to be indecisive. Maybe it was stupid, maybe it was suicidal, but Eren began sprinting toward the distant vehicle.

It was probably due to the stress of the situation, but Eren felt like he flew across the ground as he made his way toward Ilse’s truck. Only a minute or two later, he could finally see that the truck was practically wrapped around one of the ugly trees. There was no way it would ever run again. Eren took hold of the driver’s door and yanked it open.

Ilse fell out of the seat, limp and colorless. Eren managed to catch her, but as soon as he felt her skin, he knew. She had been dead for hours.

There was nothing left to do, but he couldn’t leave her behind. He ran back to their vehicle with the dead woman in his arms, throat tight with grief but skin crawling whenever it came into contact with the corpse. He hadn’t begun to feel nauseous or dizzy, for some reason. His wristwatch had continued to beep at him, but he ignored it.

After placing Ilse in the back of the vehicle, Eren shifted Mikasa to the back seat, doing his best not to disturb the puddle of sick at Armin’s feet. While his friends were definitely pale and sticky with sweat, a strong pulse thudded comfortingly on both their necks. Eren turned the keys and felt the engine rumble to life, and he exhaled a sigh of relief that seemed to contain all the air in his lungs.

Adrenaline, or whatever had come over Eren that had prevented him from feeling the effects of the radiation, kept him tense the entire drive back to camp. Every muscle in his body felt like it was on fire, ready to leap into action. It was too late for that, though. He’d been so stupidly determined to rescue Ilse that he’s ignored all the warnings that Mike and Nanaba and all the others had hammered into his head since he was nine. Radiation was the enemy that Eren would never be able to defeat with a punch or a well-aimed gunshot. Radiation didn’t care about skill or luck. The only rule with radiation was _run._

But Eren hadn’t run. He’d done the exact opposite, charged into its ravenous maw, and dragged Mikasa and Armin with him too. How long had he been out? Minutes? Hours? Ilse hadn’t even spent a whole day in those woods, and she had been long dead when he found her. How long would it take for them to suffer the same fate?

“They’re back!” A voice shouted as Eren parked the truck next to the others just outside the circle of tents. A girl with straight brown hair came dashing around the corner, only to freeze when she was the tree-sized dent in the side. “What in the—”

Exhaustion was finally catching up with Eren, now that they were “safe” back at camp. He pushed over the door and stumbled out. The brunette looked him over.

“Jesus, Eren, you look like shit. What the hell happened? Where’s Ilse?”

“Sasha,” Eren managed, but he could feel the ground starting to sway beneath his feet. “Get Nanaba . . . the radiation . . . .”

“Eren!” Sasha cried, lunging forward half a second too late to keep Eren from crashing into the dirt.

“I made the wrong choice,” he rasped, feeling dust in his throat.

Then there was nothing.


	3. Hope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We meet Squad Mike and get some answers! (but also more questions...)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh, where did my productive weekend go??!? Anyway, managed to pull this together! It's a bit of an information dump to be honest, but the next chapter is gonna be TRES BIEN so get excited for that (or don't, I won't tell you how to live your life.)  
> My next update will be on my other fic (this is my serious gritty fic, the other is a lot more fun, plus there's MUUUUSIC) so be on the lookout for that! :D  
> Lastly, I finally got caught back up on the manga, and I literally can't get this [image](https://66.media.tumblr.com/e8b91bf683f3581221c46b6331cba8f1/tumblr_pg337pK0pb1ra3pgjo1_500.png) of Eren from chapter 110 out of my brain. So if you want to just imagine that Eren in this fic is like that, please just do that. Spoiler warning I guess, there's no text, but... idk, unless you thought Eren would die by now or something... Also fangirl warning I guess, if you're heavily affected by fuckin HAWT anime boys... this pic could end you

“—don’t know what to tell, you Mike. I don’t have the medical expertise to explain it. I’m not sure _anyone_ could.”

Something was sticking to Eren’s face. His hair, wet with sweat.

_So hot._

“Did you treat him?” A man’s voice.

“I tried. But the moment I pulled the needle out, the skin closed right back up. He didn’t even _bleed_. I’m not sure if any of it got into his system. It might not matter, though. His symptoms aren’t anything like the others.”

_Nanaba and Mike,_ Eren’s foggy mind finally deciphered.

With a groan, the teenager cracked open his eyes and pushed himself up on his elbows. He was lying on a medical cot in the back of Nanaba’s truck. No wonder the surface beneath him had felt so smooth, without any rocks or lumpy earth jabbing painfully into his back. It was actually disconcerting to be comfortable for once.

“If only Hanji—Eren!”

The fair-haired woman pulled herself into the truck and crouched down next to him. With great hesitance, she held one hand several inches away from Eren’s forehead, then, as if having confirmed something, gently touched it with her fingertips. “You’re still burning up,” she said, wiping the sticky strands of dark brown hair out of his face, “but at least not literally anymore.”

“Whrn—” Eren swallowed thickly, attempting to clear the coarseness from his voice. “What?”

“Your body temperature was over 120 degrees,” Nanaba stated, though by her tone, Eren knew she didn’t quite comprehend the figure herself. “By the time Sasha dragged you the few yards into camp, her arms were covered in burns.”

Eren’s eyes widened. _How is that possible?_ Then he was suddenly struck by the memories of his disastrous mission, and his own condition no longer mattered. “Mikasa. Armin!”

“They’ll live,” Nanaba assured him, though her expression wasn’t quite as comforting as Eren had hoped. “They both have ARS. Thankfully they weren’t exposed for very long, and I was able to treat them. They might suffer from some complications later in life, but in this environment, that’s practically unavoidable.”

It was better news than he could have hoped for, but Eren still felt guilt twist in his chest. The feeling only increased when he heard a shuffling sound and looked up to see Mike clambering into the back of the truck to crouch on his other side. “Mike…”

“Have I taught you nothing, Eren?”

The quiet words struck Eren in a way that left him breathless. This man had been like a father to him for ten years. He had encouraged and protected Eren. He was the one most responsible for making Eren the man he was now. _Have I taught you nothing, Eren?_ How could he say that? Mike had taught him everything. Eren just hadn’t learned properly.

“Mike,” Nanaba said sharply as Eren’s eyes began to burn. “He’s been through enough today. Can’t you save the lecture for later?”

“He’s not a child, Nanaba,” Mike snapped. “This was his mission, and I’m his commanding officer.” He looked down at Eren, who was struggling to keep his increasingly rough breathing under control. Mike’s stern expression deflated somewhat. “Maybe this was my fault,” he muttered. “I should have known if you weren’t ready.”

Eren’s fingers curled into fists, but his anger wasn’t directed at Mike. All he’d wanted for years was to join the military so he could protect the people he cared about. He’d put his heart and soul into training and studying for so long that he could barely remember what life was like living in his house in Shiganshina, waking up on a mattress instead of a bedroll on the ground, being driven to school with a lunch packed by his mother instead of going hunting with Isabel and Farlan. And now, when he’d _finally_ gotten his chance, the first thing he did was risk the lives of his best friends. Eren wished he could tear whatever traitorous part of himself had taken control today out of his body and beat it bloody with his own hands.

“However,” Mike continued, “I don’t think that was the case.”

Eren’s breath caught and he sharply looked up at the squad leader in confusion. “What?”

“Was it a stupid decision to keep driving into a radioactive area? Yes. By far the stupidest thing you’ve ever done, and let’s face it, Eren, you’ve done a lot of stupid things.” Mike’s mouth quirked to the side, _hmph_ ing as he shook his head slightly. “But, kid, what you did today – even though you defied orders, risked your teammates' lives, and almost got yourself killed – was exactly the sort of idiotic stunt that a true soldier would pull.”

The guilt didn’t quite release its hold on Eren’s chest, but suddenly he felt much lighter than he had mere seconds ago. _A true soldier?_

Nanaba, on the other hand, looked more than ready to protest. “You can’t possibly be encouraging this, Mike!”

The man shrugged. “Whether it’s encouragement or not, it’s true. He was sent to find Ilse, and that’s exactly what he did. He refused to leave his comrade behind, even when he realized she was already gone. He single-handedly ensured the survival of his teammates. And because he lived through that experience, we now have a promising opportunity.”

Eren’s eyebrows drew together in perplexion. “What do you mean, ‘opportunity’?”

“If you’re on your feet by dinner, you can hear it with everybody else.” Mike turned away and leapt down from the truck bed, feet striking solidly in the dirt. “You’ve done enough soldiering for today, Eren. Try to take it easy, eh?”

Eren leaned back and stared at the fraying tarp that stretched over the back of the truck as Mike’s footfalls faded into silence. Nanaba handed him a thermometer for him to stick under his tongue, then began listening carefully as she shifted her stethoscope across his chest, lips pinched into a thin line.

“You’re mad at me.”

“Don’t talk,” she replied brusquely, adjusting the cold instrument against his skin. “I’m trying to concentrate. And keep that under your tongue.”

Eren obediently complied, waiting until the thermometer beeped. “One-oh-one point two,” Nanaba muttered, glancing at the reading. “Certainly feverish, but it’s still going down.” With a sigh she removed the stethoscope from her ears and placed it back in her med kit. “Your heart rate’s also stabilized. Though I can’t know for sure, my guess is you’ll be fine in a few hours.”

“I’m sorry, Nanaba,” Eren exhaled, unable to meet her eyes. “I know it was stupid—”

“Do you have any idea how worried I was, Eren?”

The brunet looked at her in surprise. Nanaba’s blue eyes, which he had expected to be icy, as he had seen on previous occasions when he’d earned the woman’s scolding, were frightened and gleaming with emotion. Eren had never seen Nanaba cry, and now that she was so close, the sight had him frozen with uncertainty.

Without warning, she pulled him close against her, ignoring the heat and the stickiness as well as Eren’s startled yelp. “We lost Ilse today,” her voice came out almost as a growl, as if she were channeling viciousness to combat the loss. “And as if that wasn’t enough, Sasha drags you into camp like a ragdoll, covered in mud and barely breathing—” Nanaba went silent for several seconds, as if she’d lost the ability to continue. When she did regain the use of speech, it was only a whisper. “I looked at the log on your watch. Do you want to know what it said?”

Eren slowly nodded, even though apprehension had begun to claw at his belly like a wild animal sharpening its claws.

“For about a minute,” Nanaba took a shivering breath that Eren felt against the wetness on the back of his neck, “you were exposed to over 140,000 millisieverts.”

_…What?_

“In total, your dose was just over eighteen thousand. Eren.” She pulled back slightly, staring at him intently. “You realize what that means, right?”

“I should be dead.” He swallowed. “But Armin and Mikasa—”

“Both had doses in the six thousands,” she said almost dismissively. “It might have been fatal to someone thirty years ago, but thankfully, treatments for radiation have advanced since then. They’re asleep in their tents right now. We’re lucky to have had a few doses of the counteragent on hand all these years. But while I may not have much more than a basic medical training, I know enough to understand that the human body should not be able to continue after being exposed to the amount of radiation that you have. So either you have some trait that allows you to resist its effects,” Nanaba said, “or your watch is broken. And knowing how frequently Mike checks those watches, I sincerely doubt it’s the latter.”

“I don’t know, Nanaba,” Eren replied cautiously. “It seems pretty far-fetched that I could have some magical anti-radiation gene. I mean, I still passed out, didn’t I?”

“That’s just it,” the older woman replied in frustration. “Your symptoms are completely different from Mikasa and Armin. Not to mention you were hot enough for me to lend Sasha a cold pack! I’m sure if I knew more about medicine, I could try and find the cause, but I’m just not skilled enough. Damn!” She exhaled sharply through her nostrils. “If only Hanji were here!”

“That crazy physician-in-training?”

Nanaba nodded. “She was certainly an oddball, but she sure did love a good mystery. I’m sure she could unravel this in no time. Although,” she smirked at the teen, “she might have ended up unraveling _you_ in the process.”

Eren cringed. He’d heard some of the others talk before about Hanji Zoe, an eccentric young woman who had recently joined the Recon Corps before the Attack. Isabel and Farlan spoke of her with something akin to fear, recounting stories of the medical student collecting toenail clippings from the garbage, trying to crawl inside drones, or simply staring at people with no apparent sense of shame. Whatever Hanji’s qualifications, Eren had to admit he preferred Nanaba’s more level-headed approach.

A cool cloth was pressed against his forehead and Eren sighed in relief. “Try to get some more rest,” Nanaba urged him, climbing out of the truck. “I’ll come get you if you’re not up by dinner.”

Eren’s limbs felt heavy, and he was more than eager to take Nanaba’s advice. As his eyes slid closed and he shifted around on the cot, something cold and metallic pressed against his sternum. Grumbling against the sudden sensation, Eren tugged the key that hung from a cord around his neck out of his shirt. He stared at the small object for a moment. There was something . . . different about it. As if he were looking at it through new eyes, and it was foreign to him. He didn’t remember exactly where he’d gotten it, just assumed that his younger self had seen it somewhere in the rubble and picked it up. Now, though, he had the strangest feeling that that wasn’t the case at all; someone had _given_ this key to him.

“Why in the world would someone give me a key?” Eren mumbled, turning it over in his palm.

At that moment, a distant memory flashed across his mind: his father, Grisha Jaeger, with his back to him while he locked some kind of door . . . a cellar? Eren shook his head. He had few memories of his childhood in Shiganshina, and of what he did remember, he only half-trusted it to be truth and not some jigsawed fiction that his mind had fabricated over the years. He wasn’t even sure if their house had had a cellar to begin with.

Eren needed to sleep, not indulge his overactive imagination. He let the key fall onto the fabric that covered his chest and tilted his head into the softness of the cot, careful not to let the soothing cloth slide off his forehead. In a matter of seconds, he was sleeping soundly.

 

* * *

 

 

“Eren!”

Isabel’s tackle would have flattened him if he’d been an inch shorter. Even though the energetic redhead hadn’t grown much since they’d met, Eren would readily swear to anyone who asked that she could take down a legion with her will alone.

Eren couldn’t help but smile broadly even as the young woman squeezed the life out of him. “Dammit, Izzy, you’re crushing my ribs.”

“Oh, fuck.” She quickly released him, looking apologetic. “How are you feeling? We heard Nanaba was treating you, Mikasa, and Armin for ARS!”

Eren felt another person firmly clasp his shoulder and turned to see Farlan looking him over carefully. “You don’t look half bad for someone who narrowly escaped death,” he admitted, though he continued looking concerned. “Still, did Nanaba really say it was okay for you to be walking around?”

“I feel fine,” he assured them. “Great, actually.” As strange as it sounded, Eren wasn’t exaggerating. Despite his ordeal, a few hours of sleep had done wonders, and he felt more refreshed and energized than he had in ages.

“You should be thankful that I was worried about you, otherwise I’d be furious that you went on your first mission without us,” Isabel pouted as the trio approached the fire circle in the center of the camp, where several people were already gathered.

Farlan shot a sharp look at the ginger girl, and Eren could already feel the familiar electricity between the two corps members that would no doubt result in one of their frequent petty arguments. “Eren has had almost as much training as we have,” the light-haired man began. “He doesn’t need you to hold his hand—”

“I’m not holding his hand, Jesus,” Isabel groaned in an extremely juvenile manner. “If anyone’s the mom friend here, it’s you.”

“Just because I actually take things seriously every once in a while—”

“—probably just a mom in a twenty-six-year-old’s skin—”

“—swear your mental development halted at twelve—”

“—bet you bring apple slices on missions in case anyone gets hungry—”

The two were so absorbed in their bickering that they didn’t even notice as Eren continued without them. “Fucking adorable,” Eren couldn’t help but snicker under his breath, shaking his head.

The smell of stew practically drew him forward like a magnet as it wafted over the tents. Several faces turned towards him as he approached, calling out greetings and asking how he was. Half of Mike’s original squad was already seated on whatever stumps, crates, or rocks were available. Lynne and Henning sat side by side, carefully watching the stew and talking to each other. They’d been married three years ago (frankly everyone was surprised it took them that long). Eren could clearly remember the odd little wedding that they’d had in a crumbling church, with Lynne wearing a crown of wildflowers that Isabel had made for lack of a white dress. Their little group hadn’t exactly been having the best luck at the time, having to fight off scavengers who were after their gasoline, food, and weapons nearly every day. Nevertheless, it remained one of Eren’s fondest memories.

Three more figures sat together near the fire: a brunette, a short boy with barely enough hair to be compared to peach-fuzz, and a lanky figure with a goatee. They quickly glanced up when they caught sight of Eren.

“So, the suicidal bastard’s finally awake,” the taller boy said with a smirk.

Eren grinned as he shoved the other slightly, causing him to lose his balance on the log he was sitting on and flail for a moment. “Fuck you too, Jean.”

“Did you really drive into a radioactive forest?” the practically bald kid, Connie, asked with incredulous wide eyes.

“Yeah.” Eren grabbed the back of his neck, still a little ashamed of himself even after Mike’s words. As he glanced down, he caught sight of several angry red marks on the girl’s arms, which caused another flash of guilt. “Did you get those from helping me?”

Sasha followed his gaze, her long bangs tickling her chin while the rest of her short-ish hair fluttered around her neck. “Oh, yeah, I did. They don’t hurt anymore, though,” she quickly added.

“Sorry.”

She shook her head vigorously. “Compared to what you had to do this morning, this is nothing. I’m just glad I could help.”

Farlan and Isabel finally caught up to him, not looking at each other. Eren couldn’t help but roll his eyes, causing the other three to stifle laughter. By now, everyone was familiar with the pair’s childish behavior, but none more so then Eren. Even though they were a few years older than him, Eren never felt like their difference in age was a barrier in their friendship. Isabel and Farlan understood the part of him that Mikasa and Armin didn’t. In any case, it was difficult for them to function without a third person to mediate when it became necessary.

“Stew’s ready!” Henning called, and Eren would have sworn Sasha became a blur as she ran to get her portion, lunging to the front of the line to no one’s surprise. Gelgar’s ridiculous hair made an appearance, though Eren could tell the usually talkative man was more reserved today. It wouldn’t have been obvious to anyone who hadn’t been with their group for a long time, but Eren could easily tell that Ilse’s death weighed on everyone’s minds. Some showed it like Gelgar, becoming sober and speaking quietly, while others, like Jean and Connie, kept up a deceptively light-hearted conversation in an attempt to mask the missing presence at their fire circle. None of them were strangers to death — it was indeed something very difficult to avoid in an environment such as theirs, were attacks were frequent and human corpses were scattered across the land with no one to dispose of them. However, it had been some time since they’d lost one of their own. A year ago it had been one of the senior corpsmen, a man named Tomas. Tomas had always seemed indestructible to Eren, as one of the toughest members of Mike’s squad. In training he had always taken Eren’s punches like they were nothing, and laughed when Eren had exclaimed in frustration that he might as well be punching a brick wall. Mike had instructed him to cover their retreat last summer when they’d accidentally stumbled across an armed gang in what had appeared to be a one-street ghost town. That was the day Eren learned that even a brick wall wasn’t impervious to a well-aimed bullet.

Armin’s grandfather and Nanaba joined them at the same time, discussing Armin and Mikasa. Nanaba had told Eren earlier that both of his friends were still sleeping under the effects of the counteragent. Something about repairing their immune systems. Mr. Arlert, who was getting along in years and wasn’t able to keep up with the activities of the younger folks, had more or less become Nanaba’s assistant in the medical area, bandaging cuts and scrapes or collecting plants that could be used for food or medicine. Neither of them had much formal training, but Mr. Arlert had always possessed a vast knowledge of the natural world. At the least, no one had yet been poisoned by his findings.

Finally the entire collection of ex-soldiers and their companions was gathered around the fire as they did every night, with the exception of Mikasa, Armin, and one other person who was on watch. Eren looked up from his stew (which wasn’t half bad – the meat was from a deer that Isabel had shot the day before) when Mike cleared his throat and rose to his feet. All sounds of conversation quickly died as everyone fixed their eyes on the squad leader. “Some of you may have already heard,” Mike began, “that we lost Ilse Langnar today.”

The silence was absolute. Once again, Eren felt his throat constrict.

Mike sighed. “Ilse was assigned to serve under me on a temporary basis just a few days before Kyojin’s Attack. Cadets Langnar, Magnolia, and Church were in training to become drone operators, and were tasked with assisting with the transportation of military equipment and personnel. After the attack, Langnar proved to be an extremely competent soldier with an incredible eye for detail. You all probably know how she loved to journal about our experiences over the years, good and bad. In her personal items, you can find a complete record of the activities of this squad, as well as the people who make it what it is. And of course, no one could ever forget her kindness and her desire to help others.” Most of the time it was almost impossible to tell what Mike was thinking by observing his face, but at that moment, Eren saw just how tired Mike felt. Whether it was tired after an eventful day or just tired of the troubles that had plagued them over the past decade, he couldn’t be sure. “She was one of the best goddamn soldiers I’ve ever had the privilege of training.”

Without speaking, Isabel moved her hand to cover Farlan’s, and he grasped it tightly. She had an almost angry set to her jaw, but Eren recognized it as her attempt to ward off tears. Farlan simply gazed into the fire, looking subdued.

“Early this morning, Langnar went to survey the route we had planned for the next few days,” Mike went on. “When she failed to return after several hours, Eren, Mikasa, and Armin went looking for her. At great personal risk, they recovered her body. She appears to have died from radiation exposure.” Though everyone already seemed to know this, a murmur went around the circle, increasing in volume as Mike pulled a small notebook from his pocket. Eren instantly recognized it as Ilse’s. “Once I found out what had happened, of course, my first question was how Langnar had ended up in that forest to begin with. As always, Langnar took detailed notes of her mission in this journal, which was recovered from her body. While they don’t contain all the answers I was looking for, they do mention several important things. I’ll start by reading the most recent entry, then go backward.” He flipped open the worn little book, and Eren unconsciously leaned forward as the squad leader began to read.

_“‘Ambushed by armed fighters as re-entering woods. Knocked unconscious, but unhurt. Nothing stolen except wristwatch. Lost estimated 30 min. Suspicious of attackers’ motivations, but determined to return to camp ASAP to deliver new information.’”_

“She was attacked?” Eren echoed in shock. “And all they stole was her watch?”

“Explains why she didn’t know there was radiation,” Connie pointed out.

“No, hold on.” Farlan’s brow furrowed. “‘ _Re-_ entered’, she wrote. She’d driven through those woods once already when she’d initially traveled southeast. And she had her watch then. Clearly she wasn’t exposed the first time.”

“Maybe she took a different route?” Sasha suggested.

Eren shook his head. “We detected the radiation about the same time as we picked up her signal on the receiver. It was a large area, she couldn’t have avoided it if she drove due southeast from camp.”

“Are you suggesting the forest just _became_ radioactive in a matter of hours?” Jean scoffed in disbelief.

“You guys are missing the point,” Isabel said loudly enough to silence the others. “It says she had new information for us.”

Mike inclined his head in her direction. “If you all are finished with your deductions, I’ll continue.”

The cluster of young adults ducked their heads and muttered apologies. After a few more seconds of Mike giving them a stern look, he lifted the journal once again.

_“‘Turning back after 86 miles. Rendezvous planned at ten-hundred hours tomorrow, 105 miles south-southeast.’”_

_Rendezvous?_ Eren wondered, but kept his questions to himself. _Who on earth would she be meeting with tomorrow?_

The suspense thickened unbearably as Mike flipped back one page. _“‘Encountered two armed individuals driving a Recon Corps vehicle and claiming to be scouts for the Corps. Individuals identified themselves as Mitabi Jarnach and Ian Dietrich.”_

Lynne, Henning, Nanaba, and Gelgar all reacted suddenly, as if the names were familiar.

_“‘I was skeptical at first, but they seemed to be familiar with Squad Leader Mike and his soldiers. According to them, the Corps had given up our caravan as lost not long after the Attack, since they were unable to radio us. The main Corps has sustained heavy losses in the years since, but over two hundred individuals remain active, operating out of Shiro Base.’”_

Mike closed the journal and looked around him at the circle of stunned faces. “Langnar died trying to get this information to us. It seems that the main regiment of the Recon Corps was not wiped out as we’d previously assumed, but is in fact still alive and kicking. I plan on all of us being at the location Langnar specified tomorrow morning. If all goes well, we’ll finally be rejoining our comrades in the Corps after ten years.”

Isabel let out a whoop of excitement, and soon nearly everyone was cheering and talking excitedly. Even Mike seemed to smile a bit. “Hold on! Before you all get carried away, I’d like to remind you that we’re not out of trouble yet. Lynne recently spotted several heavily armed individuals nearby, and after Langnar’s incident, we can expect that they’ll try to strike soon. I’m not sure what their game is, but I’m almost certain they had some hand in Langnar’s death. Get a good rest tonight, and be on guard tomorrow. We roll out at oh-eight-hundred.”

As soon as Mike was finished, Isabel could no longer contain a shrill squeal. “Holy shit, we’re going back to the Corps after _ten fucking years_.”

“At least it’ll be safer there,” Jean reasoned, stirring the meat around his bowl as he thought. “They’re bound to have more supplies too. Life will be easier.”

“The Recon Corps isn’t a fucking hotel, Jean,” replied Eren indignantly. “It’s the military. You can’t just tag along like a lost puppy.”

“Well, where the hell else am I supposed to go? I’m sure I can find something to do there without becoming a soldier.”

“I’m sure they wouldn’t just turn someone away to fend for themselves,” Farlan assured him. “If the Recon Corps is still functioning, who knows what other remnants of society might still exist across Reiss. With military support, the government might even be able to regain some sort of control in a few years.”

“You’re going to love the Corps so much, Eren!” Isabel’s eyes practically glowed with enthusiasm. “You can finally become a real member like the rest of us. Oh! And you can meet Levi!”

At the mention of Isabel and Farlan’s friend, Eren’s eyes began to sparkle like the redhead’s. He could still clearly recall the stories the two had told him when he was younger, and sometimes, even when he wasn’t so young. They became so animated when they spoke of their short, dark-haired friend. In their stories, Levi was this unbreakable savior who always swooped in to save them from any kind of trouble, whether it be bullies when they were children or helping them survive their grueling basic training. He had possessed such a high degree of skill as a soldier at such a young age that he had been assigned to a special squad when he was only sixteen, while Isabel and Farlan had begun their training as drone operators. Maybe Eren’s continuing admiration of this person he’d never met was a little embarrassing, especially since he was nineteen now, but the fearless young man described in those tales had become something of a superhero to him. Pre-Attack children had Batman. Eren had Levi.

“It’s been a long time since you’ve seen your friend, right?” Connie asked Isabel and Farlan. He winced slightly. “What if he’s . . . no longer alive?”

“Levi wouldn’t let himself get killed,” Isabel snorted. “There’s a reason why he was put in a special squad while we were schlepped off to get our technician’s licenses first. Even the adults were scared of him. Wait a sec…” A thought suddenly occurred to her. “Levi and Farlan were the same age, just a year older than me. So now, Levi must be…” She counted under her breath. “Twenty-six? Shit. That’s so weird to imagine.”

“You think he’s grown any?” Farlan laughed.

Isabel began giggling as well. “What if he towers above us now? We’d have to think of entirely new ways to tease him. Oh my god.” She dissolved into hysterics.

“We’ll have to face Commander Sadies again,” Farlan grimaced. “And that crazy girl – Hanji Zoe! I wonder if she’s still around?”

“Maybe we can get on Squad Leader Erwin’s team and work with Levi!”

“Oh, and that sweet strawberry blonde, what’s her name, Patricia or something—”

The pair continued to reminisce until nearly everyone else had headed off to bed, and it was only when the fire had almost completely gone out that they finally agreed to part ways. Eren had listened intently the entire time, trying to remember every name that Isabel and Farlan dredged up from the depths of their memory. It was so strange, he thought as he changed into his sleeping clothes in the tent that he, Jean, Connie, and Armin shared (all three were already asleep). He’d heard stories of these people, especially Levi, ever since he was nine. It was easy to think of them as characters he would never meet. But now it was all real, almost close enough to touch.

Eren settled down in his bedroll. He figured he would be too excited to sleep, but in a matter of minutes he lay completely dead to the world, one hand wrapped around the key against his chest while dreams of familiar people with blurry faces drifted through his mind.


End file.
